


Snow Angels

by merlypops



Series: 5SOS Song Oneshots [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Alcohol, Angst, Death, Depression, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Music, Love Confessions, M/M, Sad, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Slice of Life, Snippets, Song Lyrics, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlypops/pseuds/merlypops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'“I’ve got you, Mikey,” Luke remembers whispering as his hand gripped Michael’s wrist, but he didn’t.<br/>Luke remembers how Michael’s eyes locked with his and how, for the first time in so many years, there was actually emotion blazing in them – guilt, regret, terror, an aching sadness and, more than anything else, love.<br/>“No, you don’t, Lukey,” Michael had whispered as he tore his arm free.'</p><p>
  <b>Luke loses Mikey, but he finds him again. Sort of.</b>
</p><p>Based on "This" by Ed Sheeran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucashemwow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucashemwow/gifts).



> because she's amazing and I hope she knows that <3
> 
> I don't even know what happened but it's fucking sad.  
> Sorry about that <3
> 
> Based on the song 'This' by Ed Sheeran xxxx

Luke felt numb.

The forest was silent and dark, vast and unforgiving. A crescent moon shone feebly through the dark storm clouds and the towering trees cast inky black shadows on the snowy ground. Luke’s fingers were blue as they rested on the snow. They didn’t twitch. He couldn't really _feel_ them anymore.

Luke’s mobile was still wedged in the pocket of his skinny jeans, pressing painfully into his hip. More than anything, Luke wanted to reach for it, wanted to call Michael’s number and apologise for all of the _pain_ he’d put the older boy through over the years.

Luke didn’t though.

He couldn’t _move_.

 

_**This is the start of something beautiful,** _

_**This is the start of something new.** _

 

_Luke remembers how buttery sunlight was swimming in through the large windows in the year one classroom, remembers how it had bathed the room in a golden light, and the way it had been bright enough that it had had the curious quality of making the classroom look almost as though it was underwater._

_A five year old Luke Hemmings had sat cross-legged on the scratchy carpet, rubbing his fingers on the harsh bristles as he gazed up into the golden light, imagining sea turtles and shoals of colourful fishes swimming across the classroom, weaving in and out of the plastic chairs and the excitable children._

_“Class,” Luke remembers his teacher calling from the front of the room. “We have a new pupil starting today.”_

_Luke remembers how, when Michael Clifford was led into the room by one of the assistants, Luke had_ stared _, taking in bright, mischievous, emerald green eyes and a shock of fluffy blond hair that was even messier than_ Luke’s _had been._

_Luke remembers how Michael came to sit down beside him, and Luke remembers how Michael never left his side again._

_Until he did._

_Permanently._

 

_**You are the one who'd make me lose it all.** _

_**You are the start of something new, oh.** _

 

Luke’s leg was throbbing from where he had twisted it as he’d fallen. He couldn’t raise his head to look down at it anymore because the effort that _alone_ would have taken was stupendous but he knew, somehow, if he looked down, it would be lying at a sickening angle.

He didn’t know what had tripped him. Maybe a hidden branch under the snow or a loose rock. It didn’t really _matter_ now, he supposed. He was stuck out here all alone anyway and, at this rate, it didn’t look like he’d be getting back anytime soon.

Luke’s eyes filled with tears and they were _boiling_ on his icy face as they trickled pathetically down Luke’s ashen cheeks.

He wanted _Michael_.

 

_**And I’ll throw it all away,** _

_**And watch you fall into my arms again.** _

 

_Luke remembers how he and Michael hadn’t actually got along that well at first._

_They’d always argued about stupid things that didn’t really matter, like who got to choose what film they watched or which Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle was better. They’d had fights over pizza and whose pet was cuter – Michael had insisted that Teddy was, even though Luke knew that Molly was better because she was bigger and slept at the end of his bed when there was a storm._

_Luke remembers how, when it mattered though, he and Michael got on._

_He remembers how he stood up for Michael when the smaller boy had got picked on for being new. Luke remembers how Michael had traded his Pokémon cards with Luke and given the younger boy his very favourite card for his ninth birthday, even though it had been one of Michael’s prized possessions._

_Luke remembers how, when it really came down to it, he and Michael were best friends._

_Luke remembers how they both promised that they always **would** be too._

 

_**And I’ll throw it all away,** _

_**Watch you fall, now.** _

 

The sky was even darker now and so, _so_ cold. Luke had heard a helicopter fly by overhead, its searchlights cutting through the slowly swirling snow like knives as it neared him before drifting away again, close but never close _enough_.

The agony radiating from his broken leg was making him feel sick but it was also burning away beneath the crushing _weight_ of the cold air. Luke’s breath was like knives, like shards of glass, and it rasped as he fought to breathe it in, wincing at the icy bite of the wintery air, even as he gasped for it like a drowning man in the surf.

Luke wanted Michael so much that it hurt, worse than his broken leg, worse than slowly freezing to death in a cold forest that was so _far_ from where he had come from.

“ _Mikey_ …” Luke breathed out through chattering teeth, his breath a ghost of air drifting away into the ether above him.

When the icy wind grew stronger and a breeze ruffled Luke’s blond hair away from his pale forehead, Luke could _almost_ convince himself that he’d received an answer.

 

_**You are the earth I will stand upon.** _

_**You are the words I will sing.** _

 

_Luke remembers how Michael got ill during the last year of primary school and how, although Michael told him that it was nothing, Luke was still worried because his best friend hadn’t come to school for almost a fortnight and it frightened him._

_Luke remembers how he rang Michael up one night to ask him how he was and how Michael sounded frightened on the phone, how he hadn’t managed more than a few hushed words before there had been a sharp smacking sound, a pained cry, and the phone line had gone dead._

_Luke remembers how he told his mum and how she looked concerned as she picked up the phone herself, and Luke remembers saying: “I don’t think Mikey’s gonna answer, mum” but how she wasn’t ringing Michael._

_She was ringing the **police** instead._

_Luke remembers how his mum got another phone call late that night and how she promptly burst into tears, and Luke remembers how he crept downstairs to ask her what had happened but how, instead of an answer, she simply pulled him in for a tight hug instead._

_Luke remembers how she spoke eventually though, and how he found out that maybe what was going on with Michael was kind of serious after all, but not in the way he’d first assumed._

_Luke remembers how Michael’s parents got taken away and how Michael got to go and live with his granny all the time and not just see her every other weekend like Luke did, and Luke remembers how he couldn’t even be jealous because of how Michael had looked when Luke had seen him again for the first time in two weeks._

_Luke remembers how there was purplish bruising swelling one of Michael’s beautiful green eyes shut and the way one of Michael’s plump lips was scabbed like it had been split recently, and Luke remembers how he couldn’t even hug Michael like he wanted to because some of the boy’s ribs were broken._

_Luke remembers how he burst into tears when he saw his best friend again because, even if he didn’t really understand, seeing Michael in so much pain was agonising._

_Luke remembers how he promised Michael that he’d never let anyone else hurt him ever again._

_Luke remembers how he hadn’t promised that Michael wouldn’t hurt **himself** though, and how that made all of the difference in the world._

_Luke remembers how, despite being taken away from his abusive parents, Michael didn’t actually seem to feel any better._

_Luke remembers watching as the light in Michael’s eyes flickered out._

 

_**And I’ve thrown it all away,** _

_**Watched you fall into his arms again.** _

 

Luke didn’t really feel cold anymore.

The snow felt sort of comfortable now, _warm_ almost, and when Luke took into account the way he was virtually _sinking_ into it, he could almost convince himself that he was back with Michael again, lying on one of their beds tucked beneath the older boy’s arm as they watched a movie. Luke didn’t think he’d ever been further from that reality than he was now.

He longed for Michael like he’d never longed for anything before and, even as the cold settled in his bones and melted there, spreading like icy water through his blood, Luke yearned for his best friend.

Even as the helicopter soared over again and Luke’s heart gave a weak thump at the thought of rescue, fear burnt through him when he heard shouting voices coming from faraway as they searched for him and it was _scary_ because… because maybe he didn’t want to be found _after_ all.

He just wanted Michael back.

 

_**And I’ve thrown it all away,** _

_**Watched you fall, now, whoa.** _

 

_Luke kissed Michael when they were both fifteen._

_He remembers how they’d been at a party that some kid they barely knew called Calum was throwing and how – the whole time – the kid had been making out with his older boyfriend, a curly-haired boy with a bright smile._

_Luke remembers watching them wistfully for a while as he sat beside Michael on the sofa, nursing a can of beer he wasn’t really supposed to be drinking, and he remembers how he found himself thinking about Michael’s lips and how soft his hands were before he caught himself with a jolt of shock._

_Luke remembers how he’d felt guilty for thinking that until Michael had looked at the pair of them too and let out a soft sigh before saying: “It must be nice not to care what people think of you”, his words almost lost beneath the heavy bass music playing in the dark living room, his small hands and scarred wrists hidden beneath the too-long sleeves of his jumper._

_Luke remembers how he looked up just in time to see Michael gazing at his lips too, and Luke remembers how the alcohol in his system gave him the courage he needed to say: “You don’t have to care, Mikey” before he leaned in, closing the gap between them._

_Luke remembers how Michael kind of lost it, actually biting back a sob as he let Luke’s lips capture his own._

_Luke remembers how Michael’s mouth tasted sweet, like whatever weird alcoholic concoction the older boy had been drinking, and Luke remembers how he cupped Michael’s cheek with his free hand and deepened the kiss, and the tiny broken sound that escaped Michael as a tear rolled down his cheek._

_Luke remembers gasping out a weak: “_ God _, but I love you, Mikey” when they pulled back for air, and Luke remembers how the jubilance he felt when Michael returned those three words was enough to drown out the concern he felt when Michael looked momentarily terrified once the kiss was broken._

_Luke remembers how the fear in Michael’s face in those moments when he was no longer with Luke only seemed to grow from then on, until the worry and the anxiety made Michael’s golden hair dull and his emerald eyes lose their shine entirely, but Luke remembers how he stuck with Michael through it all anyway because they **loved** each other, damnit, and they always, always would, because the pair of them had promised, and they never **ever** broke their promises._

_Luke remembers how, despite the struggles they went through, he still wished that he and Michael could be together forever._

_Luke remembers how that wasn’t exactly the case though_.

 

_**And take me back,** _

_**Take me home.** _

 

Luke couldn’t feel anything at all anymore.

He thought maybe the sky was beginning to brighten far off to the east because the stars were blinking out now and the moon had almost completed its arc of the sky.

Luke’s leg didn’t hurt anymore, but neither did anything else, and he tried to take comfort from that, even as his heart pounded desperately in his chest, like it was trying to beat enough for a lifetime in the short spell of time Luke had left now.

The blond boy’s breathing was ragged in his chest, shallow and barely there, and even as his blue lips parted to draw in the bitingly cold air, his breath rattled inside him.

Luke could feel himself falling back down into the warmth of the snow, not sinking now but _plummeting_ , and any fear he felt was quickly drowned out as a pair of wide, emerald green eyes blinked out at him from the darkness.

 

_**Watch me fall, down to earth,** _

_**Take me back for...** _

 

_Luke remembers the night when everything became too much for Michael._

_Luke remembers how it had been pouring with rain, the drops bullet-sized as they thundered down from the night sky and beat against the asphalt covering the roof of the flats the pair had been living in._

_“_ _ **Mikey**_ _,” Luke remembers whispering brokenly as the wind howled, tearing at Luke’s hair and clawing at his face with its icy fingers. “Mikey, don’t._ **Please** , don’t."

_Luke remembers how Michael let out a wrecked sob, even as forked lightning tore the sky apart and thunder rumbled ominously overhead._

_Luke remembers how the storm reminded him of Molly for a moment, reminded him of his childhood and the stupid, petty little arguments he’d had with Michael when they were kids, and Luke remembers how the thought made the lump in his throat even harder_ _to swallow past when he saw how much things had changed._

_“Can’t do this anymore,” Michael had said in a lifeless little voice, his body utterly motionless as he stood frozen on the very edge of the low wall that bordered the roof._

_Luke remembers how Michael’s blond hair was scarlet now, a shocking crimson that reminded him of_ blood _, and Luke remembers seeing the dead look in Michael’s eyes and thinking, with a growing sense of horror, that it looked like he’d_ already _lost him._

 _“Michael,_ please _,” Luke remembers sobbing out as he reached for Michael, only to wrench his hand away when Michael flinched away from him. Luke remembers how his heart was in his throat as he staggered forwards over the rain-wet concrete to stop Michael from toppling over the edge of the roof._

 _“I’ve got you, Mikey,” Luke remembers whispering as his hand gripped Michael’s wrist, but he_ didn’t _._

 _Luke remembers how Michael’s eyes locked with his and how, for the first time in_ so _many years, there was actually_ emotion _blazing in them – guilt, regret, terror, an aching sadness and, more than anything else,_ **love** _._

_“No, you don’t, Lukey,” Michael had whispered as he tore his arm free._

_Luke remembers the moment when Michael flung himself over the edge._

_He remembers how his whole_ world _stopped._

 

_**This is the start of something beautiful.** _

 

As the first rays of sunlight cleared the rocky horizon and began to light the forest with pale purples and wintry blues, Luke succumbed to the death growing inside of him.

The shadows the trees cast stretched out over the sparkling white snow covering the ground, dancing across the glittering landscape in a way that Luke never would again.

His frozen, limp arms were stretched out on either side of him from where he had fallen, and Luke thought briefly of snow angels before he saw those emerald green eyes again.

He tried to speak, to open his mouth and form Michael’s name with his lips and his tongue, but he was too far gone now. _Frozen_.

 **Dead**.

When Michael’s lips brushed his, the glassy sheen covering Luke’s eyes cleared and he saw the forest through a strange blue mist, making everything look as though it was underwater.

The only thing Luke could see clearly was _Michael_ , his beautiful face creased with pain but his green eyes soft as he cupped Luke’s cheek gently.

Michael’s scarlet hair was being tousled by a non-existent wind but Luke could feel it, tendrils of it curling around him and breathing _something_ back into his bones – and it wasn’t life, of _course_ it wasn’t, but it felt a lot like that.

Luke found that his leg could support him without pain once more when Michael drew away from him, only to grasp both of the younger boy’s hands in his own and help him stand.

The glitter of the snow was dimmer through the fog clouding it but Michael’s skin was a shocking white and his eyes burned into Luke’s, fiery with pain and hope and _want_.

His scarlet hair was turning gold as the wind grew stronger, like licks of paint were brightening the strands and turning them to precious metal, and his emerald eyes glowed with so much blazing _love_ that Luke wondered if he’d really lost anything _after_ all.

“I’ve got you, Lukey,” Michael whispered, and he _did_.

 

**_You are the start of something new._ **

**Author's Note:**

> This may actually be the angstiest thing ever. Sorry.  
> Please let me know what you think. <3


End file.
